


Darcyland Awesome Mix Vol. 1

by Sigridhr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble Compilation, Multi, darcyland discord drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigridhr/pseuds/Sigridhr
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for the Darcyland Discord server's game night. I haven't tagged any pairings as these are only drabbles, but contains mostly Darcy/Carol, Darcy/Sif, Darcy/Bucky, Darcy/Loki and Darcy/Steve with the odd something else thrown in.Prompts were based on the Guardians of the Galaxy Soundtrack, vols 1 & 2, specifically: Come a Little Bit Closer, Go All the Way, Bring it on Home to Me, Hooked on a Feeling, Cherry Bomb, Want You Back, Spirit in the Sky, O-o-child and Moonage Daydream.Personal favourites, Darcy's Earthling Dirty Talk in Chapter 9, Carol versus the HOA in chapter 7, Natasha's odd way of saying I love you in chapter 3, and the fact that I apparently write Steve as a really fun friend who's a bit of a dick.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Come a Little Bit Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Just posting for archive purposes since I will lose them on my Tumblr.

i. (Carol/Darcy)

They’re curled up together in the way Darcy loves best, just their feet touching on the sofa, sharing a blanket, both wrapped up in their own books. It’s one of her favourite ways to spend an evening, half-lost in a fantasy world, warmed by the body heat Carol always gives off. It seems to be creeping up her legs, warming her thighs.

Until she realises, it literally is – Carol is inching closer, draping herself further over Darcy’s knees, pulling herself up to run her hands up Darcy’s arms, pull the book out of her hands, and press a kiss to her lips.

ii. (Loki/Darcy)

“Come over here and say that,” she says, grinning.

Loki looks confused for a moment, his brow furrowing before it seems to click. “Or what?” he says with a grin.

“Or I’ll make you,” she replies.

He snorts. “As if you could.”

“Wanna bet?” she takes a step forward, eyebrow raised and he does the same. It’s an odd sort of posturing, given she knows he could snap her in half without a second thought. But privately she thinks she’d give him a what-for before he did. She knows how to pinch where it hurts.

Loki steps right up into her space, close enough that she can feel his breath on her cheek.

“Order of the Phoenix is the best Harry Potter book,” he says.

She shoves him. “You’re still wrong.”

iii. (Bucky/Darcy)

“Sorry?” she says. She feels silly, but she honestly can’t hear him over the blasting music at Stark’s party. He’s a bit of a mumbler, annoyingly, and she feels bad for having to constantly ask him to repeat himself.

Then she doesn’t catch what he says again.

With a sigh she steps forward, right up into his space. She feels him go still with alarm and she tries to look a little self-deprecating.

“Sorry, Bucky,” she says. “I can’t really hear. Outside?”

“Oh, thank god,” he says. “I was asking if you wanted to leave.”

She nearly facepalms.

iv. (Natasha/Darcy)

Natasha is a person people keep their distance from. She knows why, and it’s precisely why she doesn’t let them. Keeping everyone on the back foot is one of her favourite games. She’s deadliest at close range and she knows they know it, so she slides into their personal space, always a step too far, too teasing, too close.

Only, when she does it to Darcy, Darcy plays chicken. She steps back, teasingly putting Natasha’s hair behind her ears. Teasingly whispering to her so close that Natasha can feel the warmth from her skin.

It’s a game – and precisely the kind of game she loves best.

Closer, closer, into the web.

At last she snaps.

“I thought you’d never kiss me,” Darcy says after. “I’ve been flirting for weeks.”

v. (Steve/Darcy)

Steve kisses in a way that makes Darcy feel a little like she’s drowning. For a man who looks like a ripped boy scout, there’s something indescribably filthy about the way he kisses. He pulls her so close she almost feels like they’re merging into one, and she has to hold on for dear life not to get lost.

Then, he always steps back. Oddly sheepish and will give her a single, weirdly chaste kiss, before leaving.

His are her favourite goodbyes, but she knows if she wasn’t sure how important it was that he leave, she’d grab him by his stupid spangled suit and pull him close and never let him leave.

vi. (Sif/Darcy)

Sif doesn’t understand everything she wishes she did about humans. At first she found them deadly dull and highly breakable, a sort of pet she felt obliged to look after. But now she finds them fascinating. Like brief candles, sparking over and over and fading so fast – what once was breakable now seems fragile, and what once sounded like an endless squabbling and begging for help she feels pity for. They understand so little of the vastness of the universe, but she enjoys the way they step out into the void and touch the darkness with an endless bravery (or perhaps foolishness) that puts her own to shame.

But she’s afraid of breaking them still. So when Darcy first kisses her, first says she loves her, first pulls her down to bed. She steps back, she is gentle, she is careful not to touch too much.

But Darcy just tangles her hands in her hair and pulls her down. “Touch me,” she says, and Sif does.


	2. Go All The Way

i. (Loki/Darcy)

She’s clinging to Loki’s arm hard enough to leave marks, she’s sure, but there’s a bizarre force pulling on her and it feels a bit like it’s shearing her skin. Her face feels oddly stretched, pulled by the ferocity of the wind around them, and she feels uncomfortably squeezed.

Then, like surfacing when you’re nearly out of air, it stops and she gasps, collapsing slightly as Loki’s arm catches her around the waist.

“I told you portals were uncomfortable,” he said.

The world stretches out before them, lakes sparkling like diamonds and trees with bright blue and red leaves. A moon hangs heavy in the sky above them.

“It was worth it,” she says.

Loki is looking at her curiously, his eyes raking over her face. “Yes,” he says.

ii. (Valkyrie/Darcy)

Valkyrie keeps to herself for the most part, drinking heavily and keeping to the corners of the room. Darcy’s noticed because, well, Darcy’s watching. She can’t help it – there’s something magnetic about Brunhilde and it makes Darcy want to reach out and touch.

Her eyes are drawn over to the other side of the room as Thor lets out a deep, booming laugh. She’s startled when she looks back and finds Brunhilde gone, and even more startled when Brunhilde appears next to her.

“You’ve been watching me,” she says, mildly. “I’ve been watching you.”

Darcy’s throat goes very dry.

Brunhilde takes a shot of something hideously green, then grins.

“So, are we going all the way?”

iii. (Bucky/Darcy)

“What are you afraid of?” Steve asks. They can see through into the lab where Jane and Darcy are slouched over a computer thanks to Stark’s obsession with massive windows. Bucky slouches a little lower in his chair and Sam kicks it from behind.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could say no,” says Bucky.

“To you?” Sam snorts. “Hardly.” He turns to Steve and puts on an absurdly gruff voice. “Oh, Darcy, I’ve been pining for you, I’d save up all my nickels just to buy you a hot dog.”

Bucky growls and tries to kick Sam while Steve laughs.

“Oh, a hot dog?” says Steve. “You shouldn’t have!”

“Not you too, you traitor!”

Sam slaps Bucky on the shoulder. “Just ask her out, man.”

iv. (Jane & Darcy)

Jane is fond of only a handful of things. Her parents often lamented her hyperfixation when she was younger, but in truth it’s one of the things she values about herself most. It would be hard to live like she did if she didn’t throw herself whole hog into her work.

That’s why it takes her so long to really _notice_ Darcy. For a while Darcy was just someone who crunched her numbers, checked her code and took notes with her. But it isn’t until Darcy takes a week off that it hits Jane just how much she misses her when she’s gone.

She misses the coffee, the notes. She misses the jokes, the smiles. She misses all of it – she misses Darcy’s voice.

She’s called her before she realises what she’s doing.

“Everything ok?” Darcy asks.

“Yeah, I just – I wanted to thank you,” Jane says. “For all you do. I don’t say it enough. You have given up so much to help me and I just… I wanted to thank you.”

Darcy laughs. “Dude, I know,” she says.

v. (Carol/Darcy)

_hey_

**_hey_ **

_when are you coming back?_

_**Tomorrow I think if all goes well** _

_Not soon enough_

_**I know, darce, I’d be back sooner if I could** _

_You can literally fly carol_

**_So can u buy a plane ticket cheapskate_ **

_Lol I just might  
Flights are surprisingly reasonable  
How dangerous is this field trip?_

_**Darcy do not fly to a war zone** _

_Too late  
Do you remember where I keep my passport_

**_Darcy  
Darcy  
Do not fly to a war zone to get nookie  
I like nookie  
I need you alive for nookie purposes  
Darcy answer me_ **

_Brb packing_

**_DARCY STOP_ **

_Hahahahhaha  
Fine I’ll stay here and pine  
I love you  
Come back please_

_**I will you absolute maniac** _


	3. Bring It On Home to Me

i. (Carol/Darcy)

“Honestly, I’m never moving,” says Darcy, sprawled out halfway on top of Carol. “Sorry, no more superhero-ing for you. You live here now.”

“We’re gonna want food eventually,” Carol says with a laugh.

“Nah,” says Darcy. “No food, only this.”

“You sure about that?” Carol asks teasingly. “No breakfast food? No pizza?”

Darcy lets out a pantomimed wail. “Why are you re-enacting Sophie’s choice with me? Why can’t I have both?”

Carol laughs and kisses her on the head, then squirms out from underneath Darcy despite her protests. “I’m getting breakfast, and I’ll bring it back to you. You don’t even need to move.”

“Traitor,” says Darcy.

“Love you,” Carol adds, kissing her again before leaving.

ii. (Loki/Darcy)

There’s something sweet pressed to her dry lips, and she opens her mouth without thinking. As she chews it seems to tingle throughout her body, down to the ends of her fingers, and knits together her broken bones. Her skin feels somehow thicker, more powerful, and she’s wonderfully, totally alive.

Loki looks haggard and worried, slouched in a corner, the other half of a golden apple clutched in his hand. His fingers are blood stained, a sharp red against the gold, and she shudders.

“What have you done?”

iii. (Bucky/Darcy)

She’s pleased with it before hand, of course – it’s the craftiest birthday present she’s ever made, and she really has Steve to thank for it all. She’s recreated a tiny patch of New York from the 40s as best she can, and put an old Dodgers game on the radio.

But it’s nothing compared to the look on Bucky’s face when he walks in. He moves slowly around the room, running his hands along everything almost to prove to himself that it’s all real, all present.

Then he cups her face and kisses her.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says.

“I wanted to.”

He laughs. “It’s kind, and I love it. But the past is the past.” He runs a metal hand through her carefully done victory curls. “It’s beautiful, but I want to live in the present now, with you. That’s where my home is.”

iv. (Carol/Darcy)

Darcy is beyond nervous the first time she meets Maria. But the home is so impossibly inviting and Maria and Monica welcome her into the fold like family. They have the same mixing bowls as her mom does, and dinner feels more like being home than she’s felt in a long time. She can tell Carol feels the same.

Her nerves begin to disappear as Maria meets her eye and smiles widely.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says.

“Good things, I hope,” says Darcy. Carol grins at her and squeezes her fingers under the table.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Maria. “You make her happy – that’s always been enough for me. Welcome to the family.”

v. (Natasha/Darcy)

Natasha’s house is pristine, but oddly comfortable. Its weird to see her in sweatpants and a jumper, lounging around and reading, of all things, Simone de Beauvoir, while wearing the fluffiest, woolliest socks Darcy has ever seen.

Natasha seems to understand why she’s standing in the doorway staring.

“What? Like I can’t be comfortable in my own home?”

“I’ve just never seen it,” Darcy says, sinking down into the couch.

“Almost no one has,” Natasha says mildly, moving her feet so they rest in Darcy’s lap. “But I trust you.”

Darcy doesn’t know what to say to that – it feels like a statement of love in its intensity, like she holds something fragile in her hands. She memorises the way Natasha looks here, comfortable and free, and quietly promises to protect it.


	4. Hooked on a Feeling

i. (Jane/Darcy)

Jane sometimes forgets to eat and sleep and do really basic human things. It’s hard for Darcy to watch her slowly grow thinner and thinner, the bones on her cheeks sticking out ever more prominently as the days go by, with Darcy shoving protein bars into her hands at every chance she gets.

That’s where it starts, she thinks.

But there’s something unique in looking after Jane, who falls more deeply than anyone she’s ever known into her research. It feels like a privilege to see her so vulnerable, the times Darcy puts her to bed, makes her food and stands there until Jane eats it. And more than ever when she kisses Jane’s lips, pulling her away from the stars and back down to Earth.

ii. (Loki/Darcy)

The thing about the Aesir that always astounds her most is how incredibly small they make her feel. It should be a negative, she thinks, but the truth is it’s an incredible positive. The whole universe opens up before her, vast and curious beyond all measure, and all she does is reach out and she’s there. She can feel Loki’s pulse beneath his cold skin, steady and almost toyingly human. But the hand in hers opens the doors to the stars and world’s she would never have otherwise seen.

She is small, but it’s worth it when the universe is this big.

iii. (Steve & Darcy)

It’s stupid and she absolutely doesn’t understand how she’s wound up in this stupid situation in the first place, but it turns out that the planet’s locals have a requirement that you preform a dancing ritual upon entering the palace and for _reasons_ that have to do with _bullying_ she’s certain she’s been shoved to the front.

Steve Rogers is a dirty great bully and when she gets back to earth she’s changing all the textbooks so everyone knows.

For now she just sings the first thing that comes to mind and starts doing the world’s worst interpretive dance: “Oooga chuga ooga ooga ooga chuga!”

iv. (Sif/Darcy)

Darcy is somewhat overwhelmed by what it actually feels like to have the full attention of one of the Aesir. She doesn’t really know what she was expecting, given she’s been listening to Jane go on about how _intense_ things were for so long now. But the truth is: Jane was not wrong.

There’s something in the way Sif looks at her with her undivided attention that makes Darcy feel like Sif values every word she has to say. There’s something about the patient questions, the way Sif remembers everything she’s said, the way Sif says her name in the dimly lit room at night, that makes Darcy feel so utterly overwhelmed, like she’ll never get enough and never be enough.

But Sif seems content with what she has, treasuring everything Darcy gives in equal measure.

v. (Loki/Darcy)

It’s cold on Jotunheim, and she’s singularly unimpressed.

“I’m cold,” she says.

“So you’ve mentioned,” Loki replies blandly, his fur-lined cloak dancing in the wind around them. “You have adequate clothing.”

“Yes but it’s _cold_ ,” says Darcy.

Loki sighs, pulling her closer. “We’re nearly there. Please try to talk about something else, _anything_.”

“Can’t think, too cold.”

The sound Loki makes can only be described as exasperated, but even that seems like an understatement. He finally drags the two of them inside into a building made of snow with a hearth sunk into the ground surrounded by furs. It’s surprisingly warm given the construction material, though the smell is vile and the smoke is intense, escaping out through the small hole in the ceiling.

“Better?” he asks.

She just scowls.

vi. (Wanda/Darcy)

There’s an itch. She can sense it. A constant niggle on the back of her neck that tells her she’s being watched. But every time she turns around, she can’t find the source. But it’s near constant for days, an endless prickle between her shoulder blades and the feeling that someone is always following her, watching her.

Eventually she snaps. “Piss right off,” she shouts to the empty hall. “I don’t even believe in ghosts.”

A sheepish Wanda seems to appear out of nowhere. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I didn’t realise you could sense it.”

Darcy scowls. “Well, I can. Why are you following me?”

“I just…” Wanda fidgets, looking sheepish. “I find you appealing.”


	5. Cherry Bomb

i. (Valkyrie/Darcy)

Valkyrie’s house in New Asgard is surprisingly rustic. She isn’t entirely sure what she’s expecting, but it definitely isn’t homesteader vibes. But she supposes that’s what it’s like for all of them now – and there are certainly worse conditions for refugees.

The sun is filtering through the sheers in the window and onto the counter in a way that vividly reminds her of home. Valkyrie is humming something wordless as she stirs the cake batter, and Darcy chops the fresh cherries into small chunks.

Each time Valkyrie passes, she presses a kiss to one of Darcy’s shoulders until she cracks, spinning around and catching Valkyrie’s mouth with her own, tangling her sticky, red fingers in her hair.

The cake is delayed.

ii. (Natasha/Darcy)

Natasha is pressing a can of cherry cola to the small stretch of skin just visible above her waistband in a way that is driving Darcy into absolute madness, and the smirk she’s wearing while she does it makes it all the more clear that it’s deliberate. She rolls the can back and forth, the condensation leaving a slick, wet line on her pale skin.

It’s not until they get home later that Darcy gets her revenge, moving slowly _slowly_ down Natasha’s skin teasingly until she apologises for the Cola Incident.

You know what they say, revenge is a dish best served cold.

iii. (Carol/Darcy)

Carol makes it look effortlessly easy to be disgustingly cool and Darcy is coming to really hate it. She hates the way Carol’s leather jacket fits, hates the way she wears her sunglasses on her head, hates how good she looks in ripped jeans and docs. She hates that all her shirts are plaid and yet she somehow doesn’t look like a walking stereotype.

She hates it all, and she tells Carol as much while Carol laughs, shedding her coat, her shirts, her docs. She hates the way Carol’s lips taste of cherry chapstick.

And she hates the fact that she doesn’t hate it at all.

iv. (Carol/Darcy)

There’s something extraordinary about lying back in the grass, staring up at the sky, and feeling too warm to really move. Her sweat sticks to her skin in a way that is sort of disgusting, but that she secretly _revels_ in because it means it’s _peak summer_.

There’s a bowl of cherries between them and their fingers keep tangling as they reach for them. She can’t bring herself to mind, pulling Carol’s fingers close and kissing them one by one. They taste like sweat and cherries themselves, and so does Carol’s mouth.

She wants summer to never end.

v. (Steve/Darcy)

It’s past bedtime, she knows, but she can’t help but notice the light on in Steve’s apartment across the street. She’s even more surprised by his song choice, a lot more 80s than she’d initially anticipated.

She shoots him a text.

_Seriously? I thought you only listened to old timey swing shit_

_**Got spotify premium. Whole world of music opened up for me. Have you heard of the Backstreet Boys? I think they’re gonna make it big** _

_I can never tell when you’re joking_

Through the window Steve gives her the finger and she laughs.

_Turn it up, rocker boy – and put on Africa by Toto next.  
That one’s a banger._

vi. (Sif/Darcy)

There’s something remarkable about the way Sif moves when she fights. She’s only sparring now, and Darcy’s a little worried that some day she’ll have to see the real thing up close again. For now she’s content to watch the long, lithe line of Sif’s body twist and turn elegantly, half dance and all deadly, in the courtyard.

Sif grins at her as she decapitates a training dummy. It’s so brilliantly murderous, and her hair is wild around her face as she looks so incredibly pleased at having effectively decapitated a hay bale that Darcy can’t help but laugh.


	6. I Want You Back

i. (Carol/Darcy)

There’s an odd sort of hollowness now when Carol isn’t here that Darcy hadn’t quite prepared herself for. After all, it’s not like she’s gone for that long – it’s only two weeks – and it’s not like they’ve been dating that long either. And yet, she misses her. Misses her in a way she hadn’t missed boyfriends before.

She’d expected to be revelling in having two weeks to just chill out and not have to think about anything. Instead all she does is think about Carol and how much she misses her.

She has to face facts: she’s smitten.

ii. (Gen)

It’s precisely 4.36 pm when the travesty occurs. She has a yumnut. A holy marriage between the sacred donut and the equally blessed yum yum. A next level evolution of the humble donut into something more, something truly beautiful.

And at 4.36pm, she trips and the yumnut goes flying. She watches it fly through the air, almost like in slow motion, before it splatters, horrifically, on the pavement.

“We can literally get another,” says Jane in exasperation.

“My YUMNUT!” she wails. “I can’t believe I’ve let it down like this. I wanted to love it forever.”

“You were going to eat it,” says Jane, already ordering a second one.

Darcy is too busy weeping over the fallen yumnut to respond.

iii. (Carol/Darcy)

They’re playing with Gosling in the middle of the bed when Darcy asks. “Do you ever wish you could go back? Like, to your life before this?”

Gosling leaps, catching the feathered toy in his little mouth and rolling into a ball to disembowel it with his toes.

“Not anymore,” says Carol softly, tugging at the string half-heartedly. “Not often. It is what it is – why go back when you could go forward?”

“What about how your life would have been?”

“Different,” says Carol. “Not better.”

Almost in answer, Gosling flops into her lap with a contented purr.


	7. Spirit in the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I enormously enjoy these ones

i. (Carol/Darcy)

It’s hard not to feel incredibly cool when you’re girlfriend paints a bright golden streak across the sky and lands like a shooting star on your front lawn. She can see her neighbours rubbernecking through their lace curtains, and Mrs. Whatsit at number 4 with the overly-long neck is scowling something fierce as Carol leaves a distinctly deep set of footprints on Darcy’s not-remotely-immaculate lawn.

She doesn’t really care. She throws the door open and flings herself into Carol’s arms, kissing her in a way that is considerably more than gratuitous and possibly slightly sinful.

ii. (Carol/Darcy)

She starts planting shrubs in all of the little craters Carol leaves behind, making an insane pock-like lawn design that has her neighbours _obviously_ talking about her every time she gets home. She plants some juniper and lavender in a completely haphazard way and Carol has started landing in a way that’s forming patterns. She can sort of see it from the upstairs window and is fairly certain it’s gonna be a rude word when it’s done.

“I cannot have a lawn that says fuck.”

“Don’t be silly,” says Carol, lounging in bed. “It’s gonna say fuck _you_.”

iii. (Carol/Darcy)

Sometimes, at night, she wakes up to find Carol gone and the bedroom window open. She rests her elbows on the sill and stares out into the clear night sky, watching a golden streak doing loop-de-loops overhead.

Carol is always beautiful in a way that is haphazard and without affect, but she’s truly _extraordinary_ when she’s like this. She radiates a bright golden glow bathes the street in a soft golden light that reminds her of a sunrise.

The door to number four swings open and Mrs Whatsit steps out, curlers in her hair and a scowl on her face.

“Would you _please_ go to bed? Some of us need _sleep_!”

iv. (Carol/Darcy)

Gosling is in the front yard chasing fireflies and mostly missing them. He’s weaving in and out of the Fuck You shrubs (which are currently a matter of some contention with the local HOA, who have posted so many letters through the front door that Carol has made them into a paper-maché hand raising a middle finger).

“You know,” says Darcy. “We’re gonna have to move.”

“Why?” Carol asks, shooting little golden sparks at the fireflies to make them skitter wildly, to Gosling’s incredible delight.

“Because I think we might be assholes.”

“Nah,” says Carol. “I’m a superhero. There’s no ‘we’. It’s just you.”

v. (Carol/Darcy)

The HOA has had enough and dug up all their shrubs. This means, according to Carol, _war_. Darcy certainly agrees.

The problem is, really, that Carol can kill people with her bare hands. Like really, very much, kill people. And the HOA has almost certainly forgotten this. Or the bespectacled spindly lawyer who was in charge thought he honestly could take Carol in a fight. Which, frankly, Darcy would not have put past him: he was an idiot.

Anyway, the short of it was he woke up one morning to find an ominously glowing Carol knocking politely on his bedroom window to have a chat about the fact that she didn’t appreciate his interference and to politely _remind_ him that he had no right to dig up their fuck you shrubs.

Shockingly, they received an apology.

vi. (Carol/Darcy)

Finally, Carol takes Darcy up into the night sky. It’s taken weeks of Darcy chickening out and shouting various versions of “I’m almost certainly gonna die!” before Carol finally convinces her that she is _not_ going to drop her and it will be _fine_. Darcy still hides her face in Carol’s shoulder and clings tight enough to bruise the whole way up.

Carol kisses her ear, her head, her cheek and finally cajoles her to look down. The street is calm and oddly beautiful from this height, even if all the houses do look exactly the same. She can see the twinkling lights of the city on the horizon. And below her, her own lawn. The shrubs are lit up with fairy lights. She’s expecting the usual Fuck You, but what it actually says is, Marry Me?

vii. (Carol/Darcy)

Carol keeps making new patterns on the lawn, tearing up the plants and then leaving enormous holes for Darcy to fill as she takes off into the sky.

“You’re an asshole!” she shouts after Carol, but plants them all back anyway. It’s an absurd ritual, but she doesn’t much care.

The messages themselves, though, are getting increasingly insane.

“You can just text me, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Carol asks.

“Where’s the fun in tearing up the lawn to tell me to buy cat food?!”


	8. O-o-child

i. (Bucky/Darcy)

“It’ll get better,” she says softly. Bucky slams the plate down on the counter with enough force to crack it, and she winces.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, placing one shaking hand over his face.

“You just need to be more patient.” She puts the plate in a garbage bag. “And find workarounds.”

“I _know_ –“ he snaps, then cuts himself off sharply. “You try doing things with one arm.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple, then stands behind him, wrapping one arm around his waist and holding her other one out in front of him.

“I’ll be your other arm,” she says. “We’ll look like idiots, but it can’t be worse.”

She feels the tension bleed out of his body as he chuckles.

ii. (Bucky/Darcy)

“How have you never heard of the Spice Girls?” she asks incredulously. She winces immediately as she catches the look on Steve’s face, a mingled annoyance and shock which is immediately, carefully controlled.

“Sorry,” she says. “Sometimes I forget.”

“What, that I’m ancient?”

She snorts, punching him in the arm. “ _No,_ that you’re an uncultured swine. It’s alright, you’ll catch up to the rest of us eventually.” She hops down and holds her hand out.

“C’mon, Stevie Wonder, today’s your lucky day. We’re watching Spice World.”

iii. (Natasha & Darcy)

She’s struggling to keep up, which isn’t exactly a shock. Natasha is a super spy, trained by the Russians with years of murder and running experience under her belt, and Darcy sort of passed PE. Sort of. Still, there’s nothing more humiliating than the slow slog of trying to run when you are absolutely not a runner.

In fact, at this point she’s certain walking would be faster than the sort of zombie-esque amble she’s currently doing. Natasha has run around the block and lapped her, and is now jogging leisurely beside her.

“Yeah, alright, rub it in,” she says breathlessly.

Natasha just grins. “It’ll get better,” she says. “You’ll see.”

She’s right, it does. But she still hates it.

iv. (Bucky/Darcy)

The whole being-Bucky’s-arm thing has become a running joke in a way that she never intended. Occasionally she uses it to gesticulate while he’s talking, rubbing his beard in pensive thought or pretending to pick his nose without ever actually getting close enough to succeed before he bats her hand away.

But they’ve got coffee making and cooking down to a weird art and Bucky seems a lot more relaxed about everything now in a way that she’s _deeply relieved about._

Then, one day, while she’s steadying an onion and hoping he isn’t about to chop her fingers off, he puts the knife down, spins around and kisses her.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his nose pressed into her hair. All she can do is hug him as tightly as her two arms can manage.

v. (Jane & Darcy)

“Jane, we really, truly, definitely need to sleep.”

“We’re nearly there,” says Jane, squinting blearily at her computer screen and sort of waving on the spot in a way Darcy would find rather ominous if her brain would wake up long enough to actually register it was happening.

“No,” she says, her voice sounding like it’s coming from someone else’s body. “I think my tongue has died. We need to sleep.”

Jane stares at her, her hair oily and unwashed and sort of sticking out at odd angles.

“If I could just get this to _work_.” She runs a hand through her hair making it stick up worse.

“Sleep. It’ll be better once we’ve slept,” says Darcy. “Or we’ll die and we won’t care.”

“Death would help,” Jane concedes, stumbling away from her computer. “Bed, I guess.”

vi. (Bucky/Darcy) Based on the incredible A Horn of Errors by @amidtheflowers

“That was _terrible_ ,” says Darcy, staring at Bucky in horror. “I mean, you’re wonderful. I love you a lot, and you’re just fantastic. But, that was terrible.”

“You’re not wrong,” says Bucky, looking a little shell-shocked and sitting back on his heels. Dazedly he asks, “should we try again?”

“Yes? No? Oh god I don’t know.”

“We should try again,” says Bucky. “It’s not normally that bad. We just need to get back on the horse.”

“Right. Horse,” says Darcy. Then after a moment, “uh, maybe just leave the bike horn over there this time.”

vii. (Carol/Darcy)

“Well, I mean, I tried,” says Darcy. “Happy Birthday! Sorry your cake looks like it was made by Hagrid.”

Carol has a grin that looks perilously close to bursting into hysterics. “What… what is this?”

“It’s a cake,” says Darcy, sounding more offended than she had any right to be.

“Why does it say Ha – birth, Canol?”

“Happy Birthday Carol.”

“That’s not what it says.”

“Look, it’s my first cake!” says Darcy, snatching it back.

“You might need some practice.”


	9. Moonage Daydream

i. (Carol/Darcy)

“So, this is space, huh?” Darcy asks, looking out into a whole lot of nothing.

“This is space,” Carol confirms, slinging an arm over Darcy’s shoulder.

“I just thought there’d be… more.”

Carol frowns. “More what?”

“You know! Ray guns! Colour coded pyjama uniforms. Klingons. That sort of thing.”

Carol snorts, then kisses the top of her head. “Nope, sorry, just a whole lot of nothing. It’s really boring up here mostly.”

Darcy makes little finger guns and pouts. “Not even a little ‘pew pew pew’?”

“You’re a moron,” Carol says affectionately, “and I’m leaving you on the first planet we land on.”

ii. (Loki/Darcy)

“So what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever been?” she asks suddenly, leaning her elbows up on the counter and staring intently at him. He’s growing used to Darcy’s absurd questions coming out of nowhere, but he still isn’t sure why she’s asking them at all.

Loki looks up. “Define weird,” he says.

“Like have you ever seen a death ray? Or like a planet with 20 moons? Killer robots? Or lizard people?”

Loki blinks. “No,” he says.

“No?”

“No.”

“Seriously? You’re a billion year old space fart and you haven’t ever been anywhere cool?”

He’s tempted to invent the ray gun here and now to make the questioning stop.

iii. (Wanda/Darcy)

“This is the dumbest costume.”

“It’s classic,” says Wanda cheerfully. “Just open the door and give candy to the kids.”

Darcy waves her arms around. “I don’t think I can reach the door from inside this box. When did you even have time to make this?”

“This morning,” says Wanda. “You can reach the door fine. And you need a better robot voice.”

“Oh?” says Darcy facetiously. “Am I a robot? I just thought I was a collection of Amazon deliveries.”

Wanda slaps her cardboard robot costume and accidentally punches through the painted on centre console.

“ERROR! ERROR!” Darcy says, in her best robot impression.

iv. (Loki/Darcy)

“Look,” says Darcy, “all I’m saying is you must have been somewhere cool at least once.”

“Is Asgard insufficiently ‘cool’?” Loki asks acidly. “You do realise that the work I’m doing to assist your Dr. Foster with the construction of a new Rainbow Bridge is both incredibly difficult and incredibly _fiddly_?”

“Yeah, and she scares me more than you and I’m bored,” says Darcy. “So, how about it? Ever been in a lightsabre battle?”

“Pray, irritate someone else. I beg of you.” He glares at her, and she has the audacity to laugh.

“You see, the thing is. I watched you blow up the town I lived in so I probably should be scared of you. But I’m not. Because if you fuck this up and don’t help Jane, I will _invent_ a lightsabre and stab you with it. Got it?”

v. (Carol/Darcy)

“Welcome back,” says Darcy, throwing her hand out to Carol as she lands back down on the lawn. “We, the people of Earth greet you in peace space traveller!”

Carol swats her hand away and greets her with a kiss. 

“Ah! Apologies,” says Darcy, “we were not briefed on your foreign customs.” She kisses her back.

“Please stop, you’re embarrassing me,” says Carol.

“Embarrassment! A concept we earthlings also share!” She grins madly and leads Carol inside. “I look forward to forging an alliance between our people.”

“You have the worst dirty talk.”

Darcy’s laughter echoes in the foyer.

vi. (Carol/Darcy)

She’s not a huge one for daydreaming, but recently it’s been nearly incessant. It’s hard not to when Carol’s gone – she’s all Darcy’s been thinking about recently, and it’s hard not to spend all her spare time imagining what their reunion is going to look like.

But no amount of daydreaming matches the sight of Carol crashing back down to earth in a furious glowing ball, battling with an enormous tentacle monster. She watches her girlfriend slam what passes for the tentacle monster’s head into the pavement about four times in a row and all her daydreams of sweeping Carol into her arms vanish into smoke.

Of course, when Carol is done smashing she runs up to Darcy, still covered in black blood and does it anyway.

“I’ve been dreaming of that for weeks,” she says.


End file.
